


One Saturday, he

by alezander



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Power Outage, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 23:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17253719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alezander/pseuds/alezander
Summary: A young professor and a student assistant are forced to stop working due to a power outage one Saturday.





	One Saturday, he

 

"Let there be a young professor cooped in his office, working hard during the weekend for papers that no one wanted to handle but because he was young, he had to deal with them. Now let there be a broke student assistant who has volunteered to work for same office since he had to feed himself if he wanted to survive. The two of them are both working one Saturday when suddenly, just when the sun as setting and they were nearly finished with their businesses, there was a district wide power outage. The office was suddenly very quiet as both fought the slight panic of 'wait, did I save that shit I was working on??' bubbling in their throats. Uncertain and twitchy, the student slumps against the back of his seat rather gracelessly and calls out to the professor.

'Hey professor,' he starts. He sounds tired and the darkness provided by the outage had made him bold for some reason. 'Let's go drinking, you and me.'

'It's I. You and I, not me.' The professor corrects immediately and doesn't even look up from his phone which his fingers were busily abusing at the moment. The professor had an appointment lined up for that evening, see. Apparently his mother, due to her innate parental concern, set him up on a date with some private company's president's daughter. He sighs. He doesn't have time for frivolous relationships when he was still in a time of his life where he was busy building his career.

The student, who had stood up and stretched unceremoniously was standing right in front of the professor's table. He shrugged his shoulders. 'Then professor, come drink with me. You and _I._ ' He emphasizes the word a tad excessively, but it carried a note of playfulness rather than sarcasm.

It would have made the professor laugh if he wasn't such the stoic person as he was. 'I don't drink with kids.' He answers with a nonchalant challenge in his eyes as he raises his head to face the student in front of him.

'Do I look like a kid to you, professor?'

No, of course he wasn't. The professor was painfully conscious of the student's towering height and the lean muscle on him whenever they crossed each other in the hallways or when they stood next to each other as they worked the photocopiers. Adding to that, there was an air of adult solemnity to the student with the way he carried himself owing to his impoverished circumstances, living hand to mouth the way he was doing. He was admirable to say the least. But the professor would never admit this, of course.

'You lead the way. I have no idea where you youngsters hang out these days.' The professor says quickly and puts on his jacket and fixes his things. He looks at the student once he was finished, and realizes that he was being stared at. 'What?' He demands, but the student only pulls his hands out of his pockets and slings his bag over his shoulders.

'You're not that old yourself, professor. We could have been classmates if I was born two years earlier.' The student says as they make their way out of the university and start toward the marketplace, the younger striding ahead.

Somehow in the professor's mind he knew he shouldn't have been too surprised, but the student was extremely popular among the old ladies and tanned old men in boots selling fresh vegetables and fruits, seafood and meat in the market. The student greets and was greeted by people here and there, even children running and playing around with their snotty faces took the time to stop and exchange trendy handshakes with him and whispered secretively in his ear before bursting into uninhibited laughter. At some point, they had to stop because an insistent aunty wanted to stuff a lettuce wrap of tomatoes and grilled fish in the student's mouth.

'Thanks, aunty. You eat too, professor. It's crazy good.' He says, holding out a lettuce wrap that he prepared himself. 'It has squid in it.' He adds, grinning expectantly at the professor. The professor attempts to refuse but the wrap was stuffed in his mouth without consent. The sauce drips from the corner of his mouth. He was right, it was crazy, shit-ass good.

They make some few other stops, going around the other foods that were made and served fresh in the market. They eat a festive mishmash that the professor wonders if the student forgot about their initial plans. But just when he was about to mention it, the student says his goodbyes to the kind people who fed them for free and, after a quick 'this way, professor', he leads the way again to a wider street, out towards the riverside. The air is humid and cold when it meets them. They pass by flickering lamp posts and it became apparent that the outage was over. The professor has half a mind to leave. After all, drinking together would be pointless then, since the city was back in business and they should be moving along their own usuals. But the student doesn't allow the professor to leave first. He looks at the older once they stopped right outside an oden stall, prompting the professor to enter first.

'You are going to make me pay, aren't you?'

The professor guesses with a dead tone, making his way inside. Well, not like the other way around would make any better sense. But what piques the professor's interest is the fact that the student actually chose a site not popular to other hippie youngsters as he would have expected. It was actually one of those down-to-earth, old style oden-ish stalls that he preferred. Unlike the outside, the inside is warm and aromatic. The professor makes eye contact with the shop master and bows his head in courtesy.

'Depends if the old man lets you.' The student mutters as he mouths unknown words to the shop master. The exchange was frank and familiar and it was then that the professor realized that his student is the shop master's son.

'Let's go over there, professor.'

They move to a table to the side where the heat from the broth cooking at the center was most bearable and the cold from the river provided a comfortable balance to the humid warmth. From behind the counter he conjures a crate of alcohol and leaves it at the foot of their table.

'Wh-Wha...' The professor stammered. He wasn't so sure about drinking that much on a Saturday night. He liked to spend his one off day of the week, Sunday, with a good head on his shoulders. Drinking plenty would ruin his plans.

'I won't force you to drink all of that, professor.' The student now takes a seat, not in front of the older but beside, and starts pouring from bottle he opened to a glass he was holding. He fills another glass and the older watches. So now what, do they bring their glasses together and say 'cheers'? And why did they have to sit beside each other?

The first bottle was easily finished. The conversation that the professor expected to have to participate in never came. He supposed he will have to begin it himself.

'So, uh, h-how is school...' The older is perplexed at the fact that he just stammered but damn that stare the other gave him was quite disarming. He doesn't know what to make of his student practically ogling him like a prized candy from a shop window. But no, it isn't the bad kind of stare, just that it made him fidget. The professor thoroughly falters and retreats to the safety of silence by drinking the rest that was in his glass.

The student finally breaks from his spell and lets out a laugh as he pours more for the other. 'I won't eat you, professor, so calm down.' He says, looking away. And then he adds, 'I like going to school. People don't make fun of me being poor, although they do tiptoe around me whenever they talk about going on expensive trips. It's entertaining.' The student says, swirling his drink in its glass. 'But I like going to the office more, doing errands and odd jobs here and there, typing out reports and making deliveries.'

'You want to work soon?' The professor asks, slightly curious.

The younger nods, raises the glass to his lips but puts it back down without having drank from it. 'I don't want to burden him. I'm going to force him into retirement once I start working for real so I won't have to keep worrying about his back.' He doesn't look up but the older knows he is referring to the shop master, his dad.

'You're a good kid.' The older one says, downing the last of the current bottle and stooping down to open another one. 'I don't even like visiting my parents. They're always fussing and worrying about me, sometimes making decisions without asking me. Once they even moved my things while I was away because they did not like the apartment I lived in. Nosy things. Even setting me up on a marriage interview-'

Oh, I said too much. The professor stops himself, realizing that he had been ranting a tad too openly, and to a student nonetheless. It was beyond sad.

'You were set up? How was she, professor?' The student asks and there is a notable growl in his words. He tips his glass and drinks all the alcohol in one shot. The professor realizes that it was the first time the student actually drank because suddenly the younger's cheeks and ears are red as, say, rose petals. It was sort of amusing but weird at the same time. Why did his student look so displeased?

'I don't know. The meeting was supposed to be today.'

A pause.

'So... You didn't meet?'

The professor sighs. 'Well I'm here, aren't I?'

'Oh.' The student grabs a bottle from the case and drinks directly from it, his throat working as he pushes those gulps down. The roses in his ears spread to his neck and those on his cheeks went to his lips. He was practically blushing, but the professor was not planning to say it. 'Sorry about that, professor.'

The older was not convinced. 'You don't look sorry at all. You have a goofy smile on your face, brat.'

'You're making that up.' The student denies the accusation, but the goofy smile only gets wider. He bites his lip, realizing that the grin on his face is not going away soon. He glances at the professor and knows that he is being watched. The smile gradually fades and settles into a pressed lip smirk, their eyes never leaving each other. The professor surmises that perhaps an unspoken competition was in progress but then the color in the younger's face surfaces harder until the student was a flushed red.

'Are you okay? You're face is so red.' The professor finally says but he is caught off guard when the other reaches a hand towards his face. The student brushes the back of his fingers gently against the older's cheek, his gaze softening as he regards the other.

'I'm looking at you, professor. Of course I'll be shy.' The student murmurs lowly, so quiet was his voice in order that no one else could overhear them.

If the professor wasn't so surprised about his student touching his face, the fact that he himself did not draw away from those gentle fingers surely did. In fact, the places where their skin met seemed to tingle not with confusion, but with possibility. Could it be...

'Excuse me, professor.' The student says, leaning forward and his stretched hand reaching higher. The older's vision shimmers and dulls, and only then does he realize that his glasses have been removed. Startled, he blinks multiple times until his vision is compromised that he can still focus up to a few feet in front of him.

'You look even better without them.'

All of a sudden, his student is right in front of him.

'Oh, but I also like it when they're on. It's just that like this, it's easier to...'

The student leans even closer, so close that just a bit more and their noses would touch. The professor has half a mind to either stand up and walk away, slap the younger and push him off, or close his eyes and let himself be kissed. The professor feels his pulse quicken and he becomes panicked. Unable to decide, he is strapped by invisible forces to his own seat. He tries to calm the alarms blaring in his head but there is nothing else he could do except grip the glass he held in his hand harder. The smell of peach flavored alcohol permeates his senses, and for a moment he wonders what it would be like to be kissed by his student.

Um...

Well, it turned out that the torment of having to make the decision was taken out if his hands when the shop master strode over and lightly tapped the bottom of a rum bottle on his son's head. The student dropped senseless immediately, having fallen asleep. The professor was glad that the gaze his student had given him had finally been put to rest, but then it was the father's turn to scrutinize him and it was even more overbearing.

'Lad's never been a good drinker.' The old man starts, ruffling his son's hair. 'And you're his first guest. Did he feed you dinner at least?'

The professor nods, realizing that their earlier trip through the market was for such purpose.

'Take your time. Just ignore him if you plan to leave.' The shop master says before walking back to the counter and doing whatever he was doing prior to walking over.

A glance at his student sends the professor to a drinking spree, his hands swiftly opening bottle after bottle as he nurses the throbbing in his chest. The feeling bothered him but even he would admit to himself that it wasn't a gross feeling, nor was it a mere nothing. The short of it was that it made him feel good. That was it. Now, this doesn't necessarily mean that the professor developed anything toward the younger other than what was already established between them. But it wasn't as if he was unwilling to try...  
.  
.  
.  
"

"Bitch, I don't have all the time in the world." My co worker, a redhead named Nina grabbed my arm and stepped closer to me, nearly burying my face in her hair. Her expression was dead serious as she whispered. "So? Did you fuck? Who topped?"

I felt my face burn. "N-Nina! I told you, the story is not mine but about my friend who also happens to be a professor! He's-"

"Bullshit. Since when did you have friends other than me? You suck at lying." Nina rolled her eyes and was stabbing her claws like nails into my forearm. Then she giggled and shot a suggestive look at me. "But apparently you don't suck at flirting, mister professor."

I straightened myself, having almost being toppled backwards by her pressing weight on me during the interrogation. "I-It wasn't me..." I insisted, pushing my glasses up my nose. "Uhm, so what do you think he should do, Nina? My friend, I mean."

"You should hook up." She answered simply.

"This is not about me." I whined. Nina ignored me and kept talking.

"Hiro is a good boy, not to mention hot. A lot of my students pretend to be lost in the office just to talk to him. And he's not so young so it's fine."

My entire body shivered when I heard his name. In a flash I was reminded of the feeling of having my glasses removed by someone else.

"Wait! H-How did you know it was-" I caught myself, but Nina was already leering and shaking her head.

"See? Such a bad liar." She clicked her tongue, as if I was a lost case. "But it's cute. Even the way you blush so easily is cute." Nina was on me again, and this time she was really getting so close that I could feel her hair on my cheek. I felt my breath hitch, remembering how I was this close to being kissed not too long ago.

And then suddenly she was gone, pulled away from me by a decisive force.

"Don't get so close to him, Miss Nina." Spoke the newcomer, who turned out to be the very student we were just talking about. I noticed Hiro giving giving my co worker a glare, which Nina only smirked at, before turning to me. "Professor, ready to go yet?" He asked, his gaze softened and his voice kinder.

I knew he had disarmed me the moment he looked at me, and I had to fight away another blush if I wanted to pull myself together. "D-Did we make plans today?" I stammered, not sure what to say anymore, or if I should even deny my story at this point. Nina had slipped away, but not before making a dirty gesture of sticking out her tongue between her index and middle finger.

"The guys at the market want to see you again. Didn't I tell you, professor?" Hiro was looking kind of embarrassed in case he made a mistake.

"I..." I started, looking down at my phone which had a lot of unread messages in it, all of them either from my parents or my arranged marriage partner that I couldn't meet the previous time.

"Professor?"

I raised my head and found Hiro looking at me, concern on his face, although he did try to hide it a bit. Damn, being looked at with such honest feelings is pretty hard. And addicting. What could I do? Being a virgin and single all your life does that to you.

"Yeah." I answered finally, turning my phone off. "I think I remember you saying something like that." I beamed at him, glad to have made my decision.

"Oh. Okay." Hiro's eyes widened and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll wait for you by the exit. Don't be long, professor."

I hummed him my response, a skip in my step as I gathered my things and got off work. I had a feeling that it was going to be a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this because of a power outage that happened last semester. Everyone at my department was not happy about it because thesis deadlines were nearing. So I happened to see one of my professors slump back against the wall while facing his dead computer. His student assistant was equally as slumped as he was and I thought "hey, maybe they could start talking". Sometimes people need a divine intervention (such as a power outage, ha) to actually see each other, don't you think?


End file.
